


Pit-Stop

by bananas_for_the_win



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:17:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13369440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananas_for_the_win/pseuds/bananas_for_the_win
Summary: After the explosion in Vienna, Bucky has to run. But he makes a stop on his way back to his apartment in Bucharest.





	Pit-Stop

The wood creaked as she made her way up the flight of old stairs. She carried a bag of groceries in her arms, full of fruits and vegetables. She shifted the bag’s weight to her hip as she dug her keys from her purse and unlocked the door to her apartment.

A gust of musty air met her nose and she cringed. It was a small apartment: one bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and barely a bedroom. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and there seemed to be an eternal layer of dust and grime on every surface. The window panes shook with any small breath of wind, and she often froze during the winter. It was old and it was falling apart, but it was cheap. And it was home.

She walked towards the kitchen counter, setting the bag down. She began to empty it, putting the fruit into a lone bowl and vegetables into the fridge. She had just closed the refrigerator door and turned around to the bag when she finally noticed him.

He looked better than when she’d last seen him. A lot better. Stubble had grown in on his chin, his hair looked a little longer, but his demeanor hadn't changed. He still had that assessing look in his eyes, the same charged stance, like he was always ready to either fight or run. Or both.

But she knew him. She’d always know him. And by the looks of it, so would he.

She didn't know how he was here. She didn't know he was even alive. She had been locked away, out of sight when he disappeared. When she was freed, when they’d finally found her, the earth was in ruins. Hydra was gone, and SHIELD along with it.

They moved her to Romania after everything had cooled down. They knew she’d be on Hydra’s hit list, so they changed her name and gave her a new home. What they didn't know was that he’d followed her.

After he pulled that man from the river, he could only remember her. He remembered her with perfect clarity. He went back for her. He knew he had to save her from that hell hole. She’d done so much for him, he needed to save her.

But she was gone. She was gone when he got there. They’d taken her, moved her far away from him. They’d taken her from him, again. He’d lost her.  
But he didn't let her go. He looked and looked. Surfed every intelligence organization for her. He refused to stop. He couldn't let her get away again.  
And he didn't. He found where they’d taken her, and he left. He found an abandoned apartment building close to hers and watched her, making sure she was safe. It killed him. He knew he couldn't go to her; he knew it’d put her in danger. So he watched. It tore him apart, but he stayed away.

But she was in danger now. He couldn't stay away from this.

“You’re alive.” was all she could say. Her body felt hollow, and she was trembling.

He couldn't move. He’d imagined what it would feel like to see her again, to actually be able to talk to her and hear her voice. It was never like this. Fear was coursing through him, overwhelming every part of him. She was in danger, and he couldn't save her from it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still afraid. He couldn't be here, it was too dangerous. They’d find him.

He still didn't say anything. His mind was running like crazy. He shouldn't be here; it only put her in more danger than she was already in.

“Are you in trouble?” she tried again. She moved around the kitchen counter towards him. The apartment was tiny, but the distance between them seemed to stretch for miles. She came to stand only feet in front of him. This close, she could see the fear in his eyes, and she became worried. Her question was answered.

“You have to go, you can't be here,” she shook her head quickly, concern lacing her tone. He stepped towards her, grabbing her arm to calm her down. Her skin prickled at his touch; it’d been so long.

“I know,” he assured, his voice low.

“You can't be here,” she whispered. “They watch me, they _are_ watching me, you're not safe here, they’ll find you — “

“Hey,” he said firmly, and she went quiet. She looked up at him, scared to death. She couldn't let them get to him. She couldn't be the reason why they get him.  
He had a hold of her arm — her anchor. She calmed down as she looked into his eyes, those perfect blues that she knew by heart. She saw the concern and fear there, too, eating him alive. He was terrified.

He swallowed hard, tightening his grip ever so slightly. “They’ve already found me. That's why I’m here. You have to leave. You're not safe.”

“I’m not safe?” she repeated. “They’re after _you_ Bucky, not me. You're the one in danger.”

He was growing impatient. She wasn't listening. He could take care of himself, he didn't care if he was caught, but he couldn't live with himself if they took her again.

“I know, I _know_ , okay?” he grabbed her other arm, shaking her lightly. She needed to listen. “They know about me, but not you. They don't know about you, not yet, and I’d like to keep it that way. You have to leave before they come after you, too, okay?” he pulled her close, cupping her face in his hands. He pressed his forehead against hers.

He was breathing heavily. He hadn't been this close to her in… he couldn't remember how long it had been. But it was a long time. A long, long time. He could feel everything like it was the first time: her soft breath fanning across his skin, the natural smell of flowers that somehow always seemed to roll off her, and the look of her deep brown eyes locked on his. He shut his eyes at the intrusive thoughts running through his head. He didn't want to think of the worst that could happen. He wanted to stay here, like this, forever. But he knew. He knew he could never — would never — deserve something so perfect.

“They’ve found me, but they haven't found you. And they won't, not if you leave right now and never look back,” he said softly. He was wearing gloves; she wished she could feel the rough skin of his hands. She didn't realize how much she’d missed him until he was right here in front of her. She missed everything. Nothing about him had changed: his voice was still gruff, his body still strong, and his eyes still sharp. She only wished she could stay with him longer, but she knew that if he was here, if he had never come to her until now, then something was wrong.

Tears began to fill her eyes with the realization. She fisted the jacket he was wearing, never wanting to let go. “How did you find me?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“It doesn't matter now,” he only said. He was trying desperately to keep the emotion from his voice, but he was cracking. She was always his weakness. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and a tear rolled down her cheek. The first time she was able to see him again also ended up being the last. The irony was disgusting. And cruel.

“It isn't fair,” she said, her voice cracking. She shut her eyes tighter, trying to push away the pain of it all. He could feel her breaking. He quickly pulled off his right glove, shoving it in his pocket. He brushed her cheek gently, trying to calm her down. He needed her clear-minded. She needed to be sharp in order to get away clean. His closeness was proving counterproductive, for she only shook harder. Her knuckles were turning white, and he knew they were running out of time. So he did the only thing he knew how.

He kissed her.

It was an eternity yet a millisecond; too long but not long enough. The moment his lips touched hers, he knew he was dead. He knew that she would never leave him, that she would always have a part of him. It made leaving all the more difficult.

He could taste her salty tears, and he hated himself. This was his fault. This was all happening because he couldn't leave her, he had to follow her to Romania. He followed her because he was selfish. He wanted something from that place. He wanted a choice after all those years of not having one. He wanted her to be safe — he _needed_ her to be safe. Yet here he was, endangering the girl he swore to protect, risking both of their lives. And for what, a silly kiss?

But he knew that it wasn't silly. He knew that deep down, he wouldn't have been able to live without knowing she was safe, out of harm’s way. He knew it was always so much more. He knew it was more than protecting her because she helped him get his mind back. He knew it went deeper than that.

And when he pulled away all too soon, he could practically _feel_ her heart splintering.

He could feel it, because it was happening to him, too.

He pulled away, backing up slowly. He couldn't keep his eyes closed no matter how badly he wanted to. But he wanted to memorize her face, burn the color of her eyes into his mind forever.

But right now, her eyes were broken and bloodshot. The raw emotion in them was so overwhelming, he could feel it suffocating him. He could feel himself drowning.

Her heart was beating too fast. She could barely move. She hadn't felt the taste of his lips in years and it was all too much. And then all of a sudden he was pulling away, drifting further and farther from her, somewhere she couldn't reach him. She felt his jacket fall from her hands and the light touch of his hands sliding down her arms, slipping away. She was losing him. Just like the last time.

“You have to run,” he said, stepping back towards the door. His look had changed. He was now looking at her with a kind of bittersweet happiness. He gripped her hand as it slid past his. “Go,” he whispered. He gave her a reassuring nod, his fingers sliding past hers. She could tell that there was something he wasn't saying, and it only made her hurt more. She could see in his eyes all the things he wanted to say, but couldn't. “Go.”

The next thing she knew, he was backing out of the doorway, gone to her forever, leaving her and those words left unsaid.


End file.
